I'd Give My Heart
by charmed-seconds
Summary: Reincarnation Fic. Merlin always remembers his past, and he knows his destiny is to make sure Arthur ascends to the throne. However, thrones change, as do names. Years pass, and this time his name is Christopher Perry Halliwell, and he can taste the success. Merthur turned Wyris.


**Song : Jillian (I'd Give My Heart)**

**Artist : Within Temptation**

* * *

The first time I lost him, it was in my original body with my original name. We, to this day, remembered fondly as a King who attempted to unite his kingdom and his trusty wizard by his side, striking down any foe that threatened their destiny. The stories change slightly. Who married whom. Which person was killed; and, of course our ages. Sometimes, Arthur is older than me. Other times, it is I who is the elder.

In one picture, I bared long, white hair and a matching beard. I only wish I lived long enough to have gray hairs; but yet, my life had no purpose once Arthur passed on. The only thing is that he went peacefully. It was a blade, pierced his heart. His body dropped to the ground, his blue-eyes already losing their luster and life.

It felt as if someone shattered my heart on that battlefield. I lashed out, killing every evil being within leagues of me. I remember cradling his head in my lap, my hand smoothing the blond hair as tears streamed down my face. I just couldn't believe he was gone. It was long before Albion was born and our destiny was obviously unfulfilled.

I was alive for three weeks longer. Then, my death was at the hands of the council. Their weapon, the pyre that Arthur had doused throughout his reign. It hurt. I remember the flames charring the skin on my ankles before darkness over took me. When I awoke, I was no longer in my world.

It took me three cycles before I realized we were on a reincarnation circle that seemingly had no end. I went through the Black Plague – Arthur was taken from me again by that dreadful disease - and then the voyage from Europe to the Americas. I never found Arthur then. Perhaps my feelings were wrong and he didn't venture over the pond, but nonetheless, I grew old and died lonely.

Our names changed. Our genetics differed. But yet, when I found Arthur…or whatever he was named at that time…it was never _my _Arthur. He would have the same prat personality that I knew and loved, but it just wasn't…_him._ It was as if I was the only one tortured with the memories of my past lives while Arthur got to live in a blissful world of ignorance. I was the one seeking him out; my soul forever pulling me to his side, and once I got there…it was as if I wasn't needed.

This time, my name is no longer Merlin, or even an 'M' variation. This time is Christopher Perry Halliwell. Bearer of Christ…funny as I don't worship their God, but ones that have been with me since my body was truly mine. My mother and father are both of magical blood; a first in a while; but like all my past lives, my magic must be kept secret from the society I'm in.

My black hair has dimmed to a dark brown and my eyes have shifted to a shade of sage green. No matter what my soul remembers, genetics will always trump it. However, unlike my previous lives…I found my Arthur within moments of my birth. There was only one problem: he was my older brother.

He was blond with his crystal blue eyes. He was remarkably like his first life. He had compassion. Kindness. And the hint of pratness that made Arthur, Arthur…or in this case, Wyatt.

He protected me like he's always done although I could easily kill anyone who opposed him. Although, I will admit, in this life cycle, Wyatt had a quite a punch with his magical powers. I tried to watch over Wyatt as if he was going to be struck down at a moment's notice. Excalibur was already within his procession, which was half the battle. Now, it was just getting him to the throne and taking his rightful spot. Many already bowed to him; it was just a matter of getting the rest to and for him to be crowned, no longer as the King of Albion, but the King of Magic.

Funny how so much changes in a few centuries.

It wasn't until I was sixteen when Wyatt and I consummated our true relationship. He stammered on how he didn't know why he wanted to do this with me and so on. I feigned that I didn't know either but did the cliché saying of "It just feels right." and he went on with it. For a year and half, we lived in harmony. No strong demons to rock the boat. Our usual rows that was quickly made up with a bout of sex and a few choice words. And as always, I stood by his side, his unseen protector as he made his way to his rightful spot.

We were almost there when…things changed.

We were in the attic; my mother – Piper – was standing giving us a lecture about the latest demon that had attacked. One of my cousins – Michelle – was eagerly nodding along, the young teen anxious to go on her first major demon hunt. I stood beside Wyatt, both of our arms crossed as we tuned our mother out.

Then suddenly, a shimmer caught my attention in the corner of the room. My reflexes kicked in and I shoved Wyatt to side as the demon held its arm up. I felt my body go soaring. My back connected with the hard wall before I landed on my stomach, the air taken from me. I gasped for breath as Wyatt quickly vanquished the demon while another trio of them shimmered in behind him. I narrowed my eyes and two of them went up in bouts of flame, but the middle on stood strong, a soft chuckle leaving its lips.

It slowly turned and dark, red eyes honed in me. "I don't think that will work…Emrys."

I flinched. Years have passed and my druid name has never been uttered. Licking my lips, I narrowed my eyes and tried to read the aura. "Morgana, how lovely it is for you to reunite with us."

"And let me guess," Morgana said, whirling around, a smirk on her lips, "Arthur…or do you not remember me dear old brother?"

Wyatt blinked, obviously confused. "You know, he knows nothing Morgana. It's because we are magic that we remember," I stated.

"Yes, just a torturous life." Morgana sighed, "To live again and again, to remember each breath you took throughout your souls span, and to know each and ever failure you've done. Now tell me, Merlin or should I say, Chris, how would you like to feel to fail again?" she hissed, throwing her arm forward.

I gritted my teeth as I was once again reunited with the wall. Morgana walked forward, "Death is never ending, for either of us. To live in this dance forever, is our true Hell."

"You seem to be enjoying it quite well for it to be Hell." I gasped.

Morgana laughed, her fangs exposed, "Yes, well. I live in the depth of Hell Merlin, how am I not supposed to love it, hmm?" She glanced over her shoulders, "Look at them. Frozen. And here I thought they were powerful."

"Release them Morgana."

"You have no right to order me around," she growled as she threw her arm to the side, my body scraping against the wood and nails painfully, "I was royalty! I was the King's ward! But yet, you – a mere Manservant – weaseled your way into the Prince's heart and stole him from me! I was his arranged fiancé, not you!"

"You were siblings!" I shouted, "Your fathers were the same!"

"And how it any different from what you are doing now?" she snapped, "You two are more kin than Arthur and I was; but yet, that doesn't stop you from fucking each other does it?"

"Our destinies are intertwined," I muttered before sending my own wave of power at her. She slid across the attic. I heard her mutter something in the Old Religion and I gasped as I felt the breath taken from me, my heart racing. Through a blurry haze, I saw Morgana stand. "This is where you die Emrys," she stated.

Lifting her hand, I heard something crack as she twisted her wrist. Then, I was lifted and tossed to the side. I couldn't help but yelp when I felt a pillar slide though my stomach, iron filling my mouth almost instantly.

"Leave him alone!" I heard Wyatt yell before I heard Morgana screech.

I forced my eyes open and saw Excalibur sticking through Morgana's chest, Wyatt standing behind her with anger in his eyes. With a sickening noise, he pulled the sword from Morgana's chest, the woman-turned-demon falling to the ground in a lifeless heap. Next thing I know, I'm being carefully lowered down to the ground

I couldn't help but chuckle, "The one time you remember and I'm on the verge of death."

Wyatt smiled sadly, "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"You had to remember yourself," I whispered.

Wyatt closed his eyes, "How many times has this happened?"

"Usually you're the one dying," I answered, "I'm the one doing the comforting; although, you never fully understand why I'm crying."

"I do now," Wyatt whispered, "Goddamn it Merlin, first you're the worse manservant and now you're a horrible brother."

I laugh before I wince. Death is so close to me. I can feel Piper holding my hand, calling for Leo. I don't understand why. Wyatt already tried to heal me. It's my time to go. I can hear Michelle whimpering by my feet, pleading for me not to go.

"Fulfill your destiny Arthur."

Wyatt shook his head, "I can't without you, and you know it."

Glancing up at him, I smiled weakly. With the last bit of strength, I wipe the tear from his eye, "Every single life, I read the stories of King Arthur and his amazing Wizard Merlin." I softly snorted, "No one will ever realize how wrong they are; but yet, I held each story close to my heart. Sure they got some details wrong, but, they were us. Striving for a better world," I heard Wyatt whimper, "Shh, no more tears. We might no longer be together in this life, but there's always the next one," I felt my breathing weaken, "I'll always been beside you…'Till the end of…time."

Then darkness.

This time, my name is Matthew. I'm young. Still hold my magical powers.

And still seeking for my Arthur.


End file.
